


Lazy Mornings

by Esteliel



Category: Les Misérables (Dallas 2014)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, M/M, Morning Sex, Watersports, kinky Wattsvert, piss drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-06 06:29:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14050965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esteliel/pseuds/Esteliel
Summary: “It’s way too early to get up. I’m not getting out of bed for another hour or two. But since you woke me up early, you’ll have to take care of this now. Do you understand?”





	Lazy Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone who keeps me supplied with kinky inspiration for these two. <3

Valjean woke before Javert.

That in itself wasn’t all that rare—but it was rare enough to have it happen on a weekend. And a weekend Javert had off, at that.

The light of the morning sun was falling in through the window. Before he’d even opened his eyes, Valjean stretched a little, enjoying the sensation of waking up in Javert’s arms.

It was nice. More than nice. He could feel Javert’s warm breath against the back of his neck, and when he shifted a little, Javert’s arm came around his waist, Javert murmuring something in his sleep.

Valjean smiled. Then he froze.

Something hot and hard was poking his thigh.

And while that, too, wasn’t all that rare these days, it was still rare enough that he hesitated for a long minute, gathering his courage before he moved.

Javert continued to sleep as he gently slipped out of his arm and beneath the covers. Javert was relaxed in his sleep, his skin hot against his own as Valjean made his way downward.

Javert was still hard.

Valjean had done this before—but not quite like this. He tried to find a more comfortable position, then hunched over Javert’s lap and slowly slid his mouth over Javert’s cock.

Javert made a sleepy sigh, his hips eagerly coming forward, and Valjean moaned softly as Javert’s cock slid deeper into his mouth. Javert was still asleep, and for a long moment, Valjean took his time, moving up and down as he caressed Javert with his lips and tongue. His face was burning; he was glad that no one could see him beneath the covers, not even Javert.

He imagined how he must look: his mouth as wide and as red as the lips of the men in the porn Javert liked to watch. And while Javert’s porn had always made him feel uncomfortable, now that he was on his knees himself, with no one to see him, it was no longer quite as unpleasant to think of those obscene, swollen lips that opened for every cock held their way.

A strange jolt made Valjean’s own cock jerk, his stomach clenching as for a moment, he imagined that the cock in his mouth was that of some stranger, Javert watching instead.

Would Javert like that? Judging by the party Javert had taken him to last night, Valjean thought he would. Javert wouldn’t suggest it, of course. Javert knew that there were limits, and he’d been happy enough with the things he’d shared with Valjean so far.

But there was more; a lot more. Far more than a single man should be able to fantasize about, Valjean sometimes thought, feeling utterly out of his depth in loving this man who hadn’t just been his hunter and his jailer at one time, but who’d also turned out to have the most detailed fantasy life of any person Valjean had ever known.

Not that he’d known much about other people’s fantasies in his life, of course. And it wasn’t as if he’d ever had a sex life before Javert. Perhaps all of this was completely normal. Perhaps Valjean was the one who should feel weird about feeling so out of his depth. How many people were a virgin until their fifties, after all?

Still, Valjean had always learned quickly, and he’d easily learned this as well.

As Javert made another sleepy, approving groan, Valjean pressed his tongue to him again, closing his eyes. The crown of Javert’s cock was already wet. He circled his tongue around the glans, moaning at the taste of it, then allowed Javert to thrust deep into his mouth again.

Javert’s hands had come down, one clutching at his shoulder while the other cupped his head. Javert was mumbling something.

“Fuck, yeah, take it all,” he groaned, and Valjean felt more blood rush to his cheeks.

Javert was still asleep. At least Valjean assumed he was; he usually didn’t talk like this when they were making love. Javert sounded like one of the men from his porn collection.

It should have been a turn off. Instead, something inside Valjean clenched with need, and he allowed Javert’s hands to hold his face in place as he fucked his mouth with deep thrusts.

Valjean moaned around him, half choking but too aroused to care, swallowing eagerly around Javert’s cock as Javert thrust in even deeper, his fingers digging into his shoulder.

And then, at last, Javert seemed to wake.

“Fuck,” he groaned in surprise, at the same time as his cock thrust deep into Valjean’s mouth, twitching against his tongue before it began to release spurt after spurt of Javert’s come.

Valjean swallowed that, too, his own cock aching as it pressed neglected against the sheets. He ignored it, his eyes tearing up as he allowed Javert to keep holding him in place, forced to drink down Javert’s release to the last drop.

Was this how Javert would like to treat him? At least every now and then? As if Valjean was one of those men in his porn movies: random men without names, men to be used, to be given to someone else, to be watched by curious eyes…

Valjean shivered, guiltily reaching down to wrap his fingers around his aching arousal. Javert’s cock was still in his mouth, slowly beginning to soften.

Before Valjean could draw back, the covers were pulled up.

Valjean froze, his eyes wide as he found Javert staring down at him with an unreadable expression. Valjean tried to pull away—but it was too late. Javert’s fingers tightened again, and Valjean allowed himself to be held in place, his mouth still spread open around Javert’s cock, Javert’s eyes on him.

Javert’s eyes on him.

Valjean shivered, imagining what Javert had to see. What Javert had to think. What did Javert fantasize about? Did he imagine Valjean in the place of one of those men tied up in his movies, Javert behind Valjean, perhaps, while all of Javert’s friends were free to make use of his mouth?

Javert’s hand relaxed, slowly stroking Valjean’s shoulder as if to calm him. But he did not push Valjean away from his place between his legs, and Valjean did not dare to move.

“Good morning,” Javert said. There was a smile on his face. There was genuine warmth in it—but also some of that dangerous sharpness. It made something inside Valjean shiver, and he couldn’t say whether it was with need or fear.

Javert’s hand came around to his face. Slowly, one of his fingers trailed along Valjean’s lips, following their obscene stretch with obvious admiration.

“Look at you,” Javert said, sleepily and pleased. “What a picture you make. Wish you could see yourself. Wish they could see you… You would’ve been the star of that party yesterday.”

He laughed again, low and satisfied when Valjean made a sound that was both scared and aroused. Javert’s cock was still in his mouth, even though it had softened, the weight and warmth of it strangely reassuring as his thoughts went where Javert’s words had led him.

“You like that thought, hmm?” Again Javert laughed, his fingers playing along his mouth. He looked a little thoughtful, and very relaxed.

“Keep your mouth open,” he then said, his hand curving around the back of Valjean’s neck. “It’s way too early to get up. I’m not getting out of bed for another hour or two. But since you woke me up early, you’ll have to take care of this now. Do you understand?”

Javert’s fingers stroked him gently, but Valjean didn’t fully understand—not until the first hot drops of piss hit his mouth.

It started out as a thin trickle, pooling on his tongue and running down his throat, hot and bitter. Shocked, he could only stare at Javert, wide-eyed and frozen as more of the hot liquid ran down his throat.

Between his legs, his cock throbbed, and instinctively, he swallowed.

“Yes. Good. Like that. Keep quiet, just swallow it all,” Javert murmured, his thumb rubbing tenderly along Valjean’s cheek. “Come; here’s more.”

The trickle abruptly turned into a hot gush, Javert groaning in satisfaction. Valjean could feel his heart pounding in his chest, but he had no choice but to swallow, again and again, his eyes tearing up as the hot piss filled his mouth.

It went on for much longer than Javert’s earlier orgasm, and Valjean couldn’t help but guiltily think of the party again, of Javert’s friends. Would Javert have wanted them to watch this? To see him kneel, his mouth open as Javert unzipped his fly and pulled out his cock and—

Valjean shuddered, his fingers stroking his own cock harshly, guiltily as he closed his eyes. He imagined their eyes on him as he swallowed the hot, acrid piss, feeling the warmth of it—Javert’s warmth—fill his stomach even as the thought of a stranger’s eyes made him arch into his own touch.

And then the stream turned to a trickle, and he moaned around Javert’s cock as he found a sudden, violent release. His come trickled warm over his knuckles as he stroked himself through his orgasm, sucking the last few, hot drops from Javert.

A minute later, flushed and embarrassed, he allowed Javert to pull him back up. Javert laughed again. It was a sound Valjean knew well: the low, self-satisfied laugh Javert reserved for when he found out that despite all of Valjean’s protests, there were things—too many things—in Javert’s catalogue of obscenities that made Valjean hard.

Valjean swallowed, then curled up by Javert’s side, closing his eyes and shivering guiltily as the thought of the gaze of those strangers again.

Perhaps this wasn’t the worst thing Javert could find out about.


End file.
